


I'm pretty, not petty

by Sloth_assembly



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Denial of Feelings, Don't piss off Alexander Hamilton if you know what's good for you, Enemies to Lovers, Enjoy!, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Happy Ending, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Idiots in Love, Jamilton - Freeform, Jammyhammy - Freeform, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, This was literally written and posted at 2am, Washingdad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25518178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sloth_assembly/pseuds/Sloth_assembly
Summary: Following a mistake while eavesdropping, Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson end up getting their wires crossed, leaving them with a lot to think about. Will they manage to finally sort out their emotions?
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson
Comments: 13
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired one of The Fake Redhead's writing prompts, which are all awesome, 10/10 would recommend. Enjoy the show.

“Damn right I’m pretty.”  
“I said petty.”  
“Oh. Well, good. I would never want you to think I was pretty anyway.”  
“And I don’t. Keep moving Hamilton – don’t you have something better to do than eavesdropping?”  
“Of course I do. And I wasn’t eavesdropping.”

A deep blush rose on the shorter man’s face as he floundered for a moment and then darted off in the direction of the mess tent. He hadn’t meant to overhear Jefferson and Maddison’s conversation, he just happened to be walking by them and he heard his name mentioned. It was only natural for his ears to prick up, wasn’t it? And he’d been so startled when he thought he heard Jefferson call him _pretty_ of all things that his mind had jarred, resulting in a sarcastic comment which he would have (might have) otherwise kept to himself.

And why had it stung just a little when Jefferson had shut him down? It wasn’t like Alexander wanted Jefferson to think he was pretty. Of course not! The man was insufferable! Jefferson with his snide comments during debates; Jefferson with his chin always raised like he was above everyone around him; Jefferson with his too-bright colours which he strutted around in. Jefferson, with his long coat and knee-high socks which accentuated his long legs and towering height, and Jefferson, with his cocky smirk and twinkling eyes, and Jefferson, with his oversized bushy hair which Alex so wanted to comb his hands through and –

Oh. Oh no. No no no nononono _nonononono_. This _could not_ be happening.

They weren’t even friends; they were rarely even civil. But the more Alexander thought about it, the more he realised that maybe he didn’t hate everything about Jefferson after all. Of course, Alexander had figured out the disreputable ways of his heart a while ago, back when he and John had gotten spectacularly drunk and kissed behind the Red Crusade inn. He still felt like he had been betrayed by his own sensibilities. He knew he was meant to ‘love thy enemy’ – but surely not like this? And why had his feelings disguised themselves for so long? Was it because that, now he thought about it, the chances of Jefferson even fishing in the same pond as him were next to none. His heart and his head were quarrelling so much that he didn’t realise someone had sat across from him until they flicked him in the face.

\--<3--

Thomas had been having a perfectly lovely, normal conversation before Hamilton had shown up with his smartass comments. Why did the little man have so much to say and absolutely no verbal filter? He was going to get himself shot one of these days when he said the wrong thing at the wrong time, and sometimes Thomas felt that he couldn’t completely guarantee that he wouldn’t be the one to pull the trigger. Today had been one of those times.

What had really annoyed Thomas on this occasion, however, it hadn’t even been Hamilton himself. It hadn’t been the amused smirk and eye Maddison had sent his way, for reasons known only unto himself. It hadn’t been that he had been impertinently interrupted. It had been the bitter taste on his tongue as he denied thinking Alexander Hamilton was pretty. It had left him gagging on his words for the rest of the conversation.

Only once he had found a corner tucked away amongst the trees which lined the edge of their encampment did Thomas think further about what had happened. The first question to answer: _did_ he think Hamilton was pretty? His head instantly supplied him with an answer – no. Of course he didn’t. The men saw eye to eye on nothing, and that wasn’t even due to Hamilton being ridiculously short. Thomas’ heart had other ideas. It supplied him with images of Hamilton that he couldn’t so much as connect to a memory but were as clear as day nontheless.

He saw Hamilton laughing as Laurens whispered something in his ear, making Hamilton throw his head back, letting the midmorning sun catch in his curls; creating a fuzzy red-gold halo around his head. He saw Hamilton in front of his troops, giving support, guidance and a morale boost to them all, his glittering blue eyes revealing his honest connection to his men - a true leader. He saw Hamilton in conversation with Washington, the relaxed but confident slant of his shoulders making him seem like a man that could accomplish the impossible if he set his mind to it.

And oh, his mind: probably the most beautiful part of him. The decisive arguments which Thomas loved finding a way to break down – only for Hamilton to set him a new challenge the next time they met. The way that the cogs and gears would visibly shift inside the colonel’s head as he tried to accommodate all of the factors for their next attack; shifting again as he weighed success rate against the casualties they would sustain in the effort. The righteousness he pushed into all of his acts, all of his convictions which proved just how strong his intellect was.

And god damn it but Thomas loved him for it.

He groaned loudly as the truth hit – it really wasn’t an epiphany that he had ever hoped to have. How the hell was he supposed to go on now? He couldn’t just walk up to Hamilton -who he had probably royally pissed off that morning- and declare that he loved him! Everyone would think that he had gone mad, and not only that but no one knew that he was gay. What would James think? What would Washington think? What would his other friends think? What would everyone think?

What would Hamilton think?

Only one way to find out.

This was how Thomas found himself in the mess tent, flicking a completely zoned out Alexander Hamilton in the face after he failed to respond to anything else.*

\--<3--

The two men just stared at one another for a while, not registering the rest of the world. They locked eyes, neither daring to blink as they drank in the sight of the other, as if it were the first time they had ever met another person. The moment was broken by a loud string of curse words which had boomed out of the kitchens, followed by frantic shouting about the new subsequent lack of soup.

Alex and Thomas laughed a little; both still unsure about what to do now that they were face to face. Neither knew what to say, so naturally they both started talking at the same time.

“So I thought about what I said earlier and I feel like I was a bit of a dick so -”  
“Hey I get I shouldn’t have been so snarky this morning but I -”

Looking away from each other, they lapsed into silence again like nervous teenagers; not sure who should continue speaking.

“Go on; you first.” Alex said, looking back to Thomas.

“Well,” Thomas cleared his throat awkwardly, inwardly cringing, “I, um, wanted to apologise about earlier. I didn’t mean any of what I said and I, uh, I really hope I didn’t offend you.”

To say Alex was taken aback by the sincere apology would have been an understatement. He felt his face flushing as he started to ramble a response, waiting for his brain to catch up with him.

“It’s alright, I didn’t- I mean you didn’t, um, offend me. I should really apologise too, for butting in. I was just shocked when I thought you said that I was, uh…” Alex squirmed on his bench, “ _pretty._ ”

Now it was Thomas’ turn to respond quicker than his brain could work: “Of course I think you’re pretty” came out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He only realised exactly what he said when Alexander’s eyes blew wide open and his eyebrows tried to bury themselves in his hair.

“You-” Alex choked on his words before starting again, “You _do_?”

No time like the present, Thomas decided. “Well, I did just tell you that I didn’t mean _any_ of what I said this morning.” He smirked at his own snarkiness before remembering he was having a heartfelt conversation, dropping his expression again and biting his lip nervously. “And yeah, for the record I think that you’re, um, uh…” Thomas struggled for the right words before opting to be completely honest, “I think you’re gorgeous.” Unable to stop, he let his words run away from him, exposing him far more than he would have liked, “I love how your hair shines in the sun and how your eyes gleam when you talk about the things you’re passionate about and how you hold your head high even when the odds see insurmountable and I love how you say what you mean and carry your heart on your sleeve and I love -”

He was cut off abruptly by Alex holding his index finger up and pressing it gently against Thomas’ lips, shushing him before he could let the word ‘you’ escape and make things even worse. He was brought back to earth by a small, shy chuckle from the redhead which quickly escalated into a full bodied laugh, as if Thomas had told the funniest joke in the world – not the response he was hoping for when he had just poured his heart out, though in all honesty he wasn’t sure what he _had_ been looking for.

Feeling shame and embarrassment colouring his cheeks he quickly rose, almost stumbling as he stepped back. As he turned away he felt spark jolt through his fingertips, through his arm, to his heart and looked down to find Alex had stopped laughing and was now wearing a kind smile – his slender ink-stained hand holding Jefferson’s own.

“What? Have you realised you shouldn’t laugh at someone’s heart?” Thomas snapped, perhaps too venomously, surprising himself a little bit.

“Oh Thomas,“ That was new. When had they started using first names, Thomas wondered distractedly. ”I’m not laughing at you. I was laughing at the pair of us. And we thought we were so smart.” Alex paused, looking right into Thomas’ eyes, as if waiting for the penny to drop. When it was obvious it hadn’t he continued, “I feel the same way as you do.”

For the first time in his life, Thomas lost the ability to speak. Had he heard Alexander correctly? Did they both just admit to not only not actively hating each other, but liking each other? Did they really both say that they liked each other even more than friends would? He gaped like a fish out of water, opening and closing his mouth over and over, unable to find his words. So instead he laced his fingers through Alex’s and squeezed, praying that his simple action would say a thousand words.

It seemed to do the trick, because the smile he was rewarded with was more beautiful than a hundred sunsets and a million stars, and to Thomas it was worth everything -knowing he was the cause of it.

Wordlessly, Thomas tugged Alex up and out of the tent, still holding hands. They ducked under the perimeter lines which marked the edge of camp and into the trees next to it, out of the way of prying eyes - or eavesdroppers. When they found a shady tree they sank down next to it, grinning like a pair of school boys, their hands entwined on the grass between them.

“Are you sure about this?” Alex asked, a slight waver to his voice

“I am.”

“Why me though?”

“Because you’re smart and witty and infuriating in all the best ways and -”

“And pretty?”

Thomas wrapped his arm around the smaller man, grinning like an idiot when he felt him wriggle deeper into the embrace. “Prettier than you know, inside and out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *(a list of antics not limited to but including: Jefferson doing a drum solo on the table in front of him; saying John was behind him with cake; and asking Alexander to marry him (purely for shock factor of course))
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this!!! I live for kudos and comments so I promise to get back to you if you're kind enough to send me one!  
> I have a (slightly more angsty) idea for another chapter, which I'll write if people are interested.
> 
> Stay safe, you're amazing :D


	2. All is fair in love...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I said that I might write a second chapter, but as I wrote this I realised that I'm kinda loving writing this, so there should be four in the end / maybe five if the inspiration strikes me. Thanks to everyone who left kudos and hugs to everyone who left comments! Enjoy!!!

Thomas had had the weirdest week of his life, and he wouldn’t change a minute of it. It had been a fairly quiet week as they were planning for a big push against the in a fortnight, a sudden charge to try to overwhelm the British forces. He wasn’t directly involved in the planning, but he got briefed on any progress in the evening. Alexander would walk into their now shared tent long after curfew, eyes drooping and dragging his feet, and tell Thomas about any major decisions from that day. He would grumble about Lee being stupid or about how congress were useless as he changed into his sleep shirt and crawled into bed. And Thomas wouldn’t change it for the world.

Each morning he would wake up and have to remind himself of where he was; he knew he wasn’t in his old tent as he no longer woke up to James’ incessant snoring. Instead he would wake up to scribbling at all hours of the night. Drafts for the preliminary attack, routes to flank and out flank, letter to congress begging of supplies and men. Night after night Thomas would wake up to find Alex hunched over all these and more, a tiny candle next to him and sometimes another already burned down completely. And night after night he would gently pluck the quill from his hand and head back to bed, this time with his Alexander in tow.

His Alexander. It gave him a kick just to think it. No longer were they Hamilton and Jefferson, rivals who openly despised each other. They were Thomas and Alex - and Alex was Thomas’ and Thomas was Alex’s. So, when Thomas pulled Alex onto the flimsy straw mattress, he would wrap his arms tight around the smaller man’s waist and slowly they would drift away back to sleep.

\--<3--

They saw each other less and less as the day of the attack marched towards them. Tensions were high, especially amongst the officers, and every man in the camp was worn to his last nerve. Arguments were common and frequent, but so far none of them had been major. Still, the last thing they needed was infighting. Thomas had said this repeatedly to his company, trying to keep them fighting fit – literally.

The plan was simple enough. They would converge their troops on the 10th of July at their main camp. They were about 5 miles away from the British there, so they would be able to do so unnoticed. On the 11th they would go to their positions surrounding the British camp, each about half a mile out. There were four groups, each with a company of artillery, two companies of cavalry and two companies of infantry. Then they would charge at dawn.

If he was honest, Thomas didn’t know what to think of the plan. Despite its simplicity, so much could go wrong. Alex insisted that it would be fine; that everything was being done to ensure victory and make sure as many men as possible would come back. He was leading group B as one of his first commanding roles – charging in from the east while Thomas (who was in group D) would come to meet them from the west. The four groups would completely surround the British and, with luck, the battle would be over within a few hours.

But if the British saw them coming it could be a massacre. They were relying heavily (too heavily in Thomas’ opinion) on the element of surprise. A single stray gunshot could give them and their positions away. They couldn’t afford another loss; this attack itself was a desperate grasp for a long-awaited win. It was all or bust, and Thomas couldn’t bear lose what he had only just found.

Now that he had Alex he had soon realised that he wouldn’t be able to bear going back to how things were. He wouldn’t be the same without the small, sleepy smiles that he now woke up to, or the small, warm mess of limbs that he woke up tangled in. He had so much more to lose now – so much more than ever before.

\--<3--

Everyone prepared for the worst the night before the camp split to go to their positions. Every open area was rowdy with men trying to enjoy one final night with each other. Many were sitting in huddled groups, smoking and sharing stories. Alex was out with Laurens and Lafayette, causing chaos and singing in a mixture of French and English. The three of them were used to saying what they hoped would be brief farewells and not goodbyes.

Some were writing letters to loved ones, telling them where they had been and making sure that their affections were clear. Thomas did the same, in writing first and in person. He wrote a letter to his mother, something he probably should have done more often he realised. He told her everything a son should before going off to fight: how he would do his utmost to come home; how he would miss her terribly if he didn’t; that he was sorry and he loved her. He left it on his desk, praying that it would never have to be sent.

He left his tent in search of his friends and before long he had bumped into James. The pair walked around together, sharing stories and reminiscing for a while before they sat themselves down with a bottle of beer each and fell into companionable silence. The night had well and truly fallen by the time Thomas’ had finished his bottle and he was contemplating heading back to his bed and getting a good night’s rest before the inevitably busy day to come when his ears picked up loud, slurred singing from somewhere nearby. James must have heard it too because he shot Thomas a look and rolled his eyes before looking in the direction of the racket.

They didn’t have to wait long before Laurens and Lafayette burst into the open, one arm draped over each other’s shoulders, swaying this way and that, obviously more than a little tipsy. Alex pranced around them, stumbling over his own feet and waving his arms around him madly, like he was swatting a cloud of bees.

Even in the near darkness Thomas could tell that Alex’s cheeks were almost as red as his hair. His eyes held a sparkle which Thomas was should could be seen for miles around, and it stood out brighter than any of the stars which were dancing overhead. He had an easy, loose smile on his face which broadened when his eyes met Thomas’. He started picking his way over, tripping so much that it was only a matter of time before he landed flat on his face. And he would have, if Thomas hadn’t started making his way towards him and caught him as his foot fell down a rabbit hole and he pitched forward.

They froze as Thomas stood with Alexander in his arms; his heart beat ten to the dozen and so loud that he was surprised no one else could hear it. The world seemed to evaporate around them. Their faces were so close together that Thomas could smell the sweet, intoxicating smell of alcohol on Alex’s breath. For what felt like forever, they didn’t dare move. They just stared at each other, unwilling to break out of this moment. Beyond his own staring, Thomas was distantly aware that Alexander’s eyes had come to rest on his lips, while Thomas stared directly into his eyes, which looked like dew-covered blueberries: sparkling and sweet and tantalising. Then Alex’s deep blue violet eyes snapped up and met his own coffee brown ones and the world was wrenched back into focus – all of the noises of other people talking and the smell of alcohol mixed with the fresh scent of the grass and forest.

But no sooner had his mind had returned to his surroundings again, it fled. All it could register was the smoothest of lips brushing chastely against his own.

He almost dropped Alex he was so shocked. “I uh. Uh um. I …” Thomas’ tongue felt like a lead balloon in his mouth.

“I needed to know I’d done that at least once before tomorrow, mon chéri.” Alex murmured, trying to pull himself up using Thomas’ jacket. Thomas’ brain was still trying to process what had happened.

Had Alex just kissed him? He had, hadn’t he?

His brain unstuck and Alex came back into focus, along with the rest of the camp. It might have been a trick of his still fuzzy mind, but he was sure that everything had become a little bit quieter around them. He couldn’t bring himself to care though, as he looked down at Alex. He couldn’t go anywhere private, not now that he was sure half of the camp was watching, so he switched, aptly, into French – the famous language of love.

“Je t'aime tellement Alexandre. Je souhaite que nous ayons plus de temps.”

“Nous faisons. Rien de mal ne nous arrivera, mon amour.”

“On pourrait mourir demain.”

“Nous n'allions jamais vivre éternellement. Nous ne vivrons peut-être pas pour voir notre gloire, mais je suis heureux que nous ayons rejoint le combat.”

“Pourquoi?”

“Parce que je t'ai rencontré.”

Thomas gasped a bit at Alex’s final declaration, before crashing their lips together again, more forcefully this time. They let the rest of the world drop away as they got lost in each other. Alex reached up to hook his arms around the back of Thomas’ neck, both to steady himself and to pull himself even closer. Thomas slipped an arm around the smaller man’s waist, tugging him closer still until they could feel the warmth radiating off each other in waves. Like the soft, calming waves which rock you to sleep on a boat, or the quiet ripples which issue from a skimmed stone or-. Thomas’ musings ended in a flash as someone behind him cleared their throat and Alex pulled away swiftly, still smirking.

“I’m glad you’re all enjoying yourselves gentlemen, but perhaps this is not the spot to do it?”

Uh oh. Thomas’ stomach fell through the floor as he instantly recognised the voice of his General behind him. His face flushed deeper than he ever thought it could as he turned around, head dipped and an apology on his lips, although he didn’t get the chance to say it. Alex came and stood next to him, looking less embarrassed by the situation, but that was probably due to the alcohol still in his system.

“I actually came out to have one final brief with my group commanders,” He continued, “as I didn’t realise they were… occupied. Lafayette, Tallmadge, _Hamilton_ , meet me inside. If anyone sees Lee, tell him to come to my office.” And with that, Washington disappeared back into the sea of tents.

Nervous chuckles started to trickle out of the crowd as they relaxed, having not wanted to laugh at the scene while his excellency had been there. Alex wormed his way out of Thomas’ arms, grinning up at the taller man. Seeing his face light up was more than enough to compensate for all the jokes Thomas was sure he would have to face later.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later then yeah?”

“See you in a bit.” Without thinking Thomas pressed a kiss on to the top Alex’s head before letting him go bounding over to Lafayette. The Frenchman shot him a wink over Alex’s head before ruffling his friend’s ginger curls before turning around the corner of a tent and out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FRENCH TRANSLATIONS  
> "I love you so much. I wish we had more time. ”  
> "We do. Nothing bad will happen to us, my love. ”  
> “We could die tomorrow.”  
> “We were never going to live forever. We may not live to see our glory, but I'm glad we've joined the fight. ”  
> "Why?"  
> “Because I met you.”
> 
> I've never studied French so please correct me if I (google translate) got it wrong :/ The next chapter will be up on the 5th unless I get hospitalised again or something.
> 
> Stay safe, you're all incredible, I know greatness lies in you :D


	3. ... and war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if it's the right word for this chapter, but enjoy!!!!

He had been completely right about the amount of jokes which were made at his expense. Although they weren’t malicious, they quickly became boring. So when Lafayette came back and called for everyone to start heading back to their tents, Thomas sighed in relief before making his way over to the man who could have honestly been his twin.

“Ah Jefferson, mon ami, what was that, hmm?” He raised an eyebrow at Thomas seriously for a moment before chuckling. “You and mon petit lion better be more careful in future, no?”

Thomas nodded his agreement before glancing around and realising that said little lion wasn’t with them. “Where is Alex anyway?”

“He is still with the General.” Lafayette sighed. Noticing the frown growing on Thomas’ face he continued quickly, “You know how they are, I am sure that Washington just wishes to make sure that Alex knows what he is doing. He is like the father the both of us never had, just as we are the sons he never had. Do not fret, votre cœur will return to you soon I am sure. I would wait with you until he does, but I must make sure the rest of the men are not still causing chaos. Good night Thomas, I will see you in the morning!”

After parting ways, Thomas quickly started to pick his way back to his tent, blocking out the jokes which were shouted his way. They all sounded fairly similar: jokes about how he and Alex should get a room, or the slightly meaner ones saying that he was only doing it to move up the ranks. Thomas blocked everything thrown his way – apart from the punch.

A fist connected with his stomach before he had even seen it coming. He doubled over, groaning as he felt all the wind rush out of his lungs at once. His mind was reeling as he tried to figure out exactly what was happening. There were two men: he could see their feet. His breath was still gone, and pain was flaring on his left side around his ribs. He didn’t think any of them were broken but he would have to make sure later – after he got out of this mess. Then a knee flew into his nose and sent his reeling once again.

His eyes started streaming as someone grabbed the front of his shirt and pushed his back up against something roughly. Distantly, Thomas noticed it was wood, so it was probably the barrels they had brought with them, which were unfortunately tucked out of the way – no rescue for him then, he would either have to get away or weather the storm.

“Aww the little f*ggot is crying,” One of the men cooed at Thomas. So that’s what this was about, Thomas thought through the white-hot pain emanating from his nose – another thing he would have to check wasn’t broken later.

He was used to the odd bit of discrimination: having dark skin and tightly packed curls had always made him stand out amongst his peers. The vast majority of people (especially in the army) were fully accepting of him. They had all fought, bled, laughed and cried with each other and they knew Thomas was one of them. But there were always the prejudiced few who couldn’t look past his heritage. This was new though. His sexuality had never been an issue because no one had ever known apart from James. He should have expected this, but it still made his blood boil that even his brothers-in-arms couldn’t -or wouldn’t- look past it despite all they had been through together.

The two men continued, unaware of Thomas’ inner monologue. “Bet yer only f*cking that little ginger whore’s-son cause you think it’ll let you get close to Washington aren’t ya?” The question was punctuated with a shake. “We’re gonna show you what you really are, put you back in yer place.” When a punch landed straight to the same spot below his ribs as before, Thomas’ sight filled with stars and went fuzzy and he slipped away into himself, his body going numb as he saw rather than felt himself fall to the floor. The last thing to float through his mind was that he would do anything to make sure nothing like this never happened to Alexander.

\---

Unbeknownst to Thomas, Alex wasn’t far away, having been asked to do one final stores check before camp split in the morning. He had John at his side and had just waved over Laf so they could bid him goodnight when Alex heard a crash a few tents over. He shared a frown with John who had raised an eyebrow and now had his hand loosely resting on the grip of his pistol. Silently, they went to investigate. Thankfully, Lafayette seemed to cotton on to what they were doing fairly quickly as he too crept forward – pistol drawn.

They all drew up to the gap between two tents at the same time when they heard a sound like a bag of flour being thrown to the floor. Either the cooks were also doing last minute stores checks or someone had been decked. Probably recruits who had gotten a bit too drunk and fallen out over something.

John raised his fist, three fingers pointed to the sky, lowering them one after the other until as his last finger fell he swung his fist down and ran around the corner. Lafayette was hot on his heels with Alex on his tail.

There were two men stood with backs to them, clearly towering over something which was on the floor. When the three officers rounded the corner they span around, trying to block whatever it was from sight. Alex couldn’t quite make out what it was or who the men were from behind his significantly taller friends and due to the heavy darkness in the narrow passage.

“What are you gentlemen doing?” Lafayette asked, as the most senior one out of the trio.

The two men, a corporal and sergeant Alex could just about make out, shared a panicked look before turning back to them. “Good evening General Lafayette, sir, Colonel Laurens, sir. We just um, we found this poor bloke passed out back ‘ere and we uh, well. ‘e looks like he’s had a bit of a rough night so we were, uh we were gonna see if we could uhh…”

“Could take him back to our accommodation and, uh get him a bit fixed up sirs. We’ll get going though, we uh, we don’t want to cause no fuss.”

Alex could almost see their noses growing with the sheer level of lies which he had just heard from the two men. ‘Found this bloke passed out’ his ass, either it _was_ a friend of theirs who had passed out but had done it mere seconds ago and they didn’t want to say they had been there when the man went down, or they were the reason the guy was in need of fixing up. Alex was drawn towards the latter. Not only were they lying though, oh no, they had _completely_ failed to notice him. Surely they could see him? He wasn’t _that_ short!

Just as Lafayette opened his mouth to respond, Alex cleared his throat and stepped out from in between his towering friends. As he did, he had expected the soldiers to apologise for overlooking him. Perhaps they would bid him a good evening too. What he wasn’t expecting was to hear an audible intake of breath from the pair.

Alex frowned. Did he have something drawn on his face? Were they really that shocked at his sudden appearance? Was there someone behind him? Trying to look dignified Alex didn’t look and kept his eyes straight ahead of him and drew himself up to his full height. These were men from the group he was meant to be leading tomorrow, so now wasn’t a great time to discover their lack of integrity.

“Oh, um, sorry for not seeing you there sir,” the one on the left started. “I, I mean we, didn’t mean no disrespect, sir. As you probably heard though sir, we should be going now. Good night to you all – General, Colonel, Colonel.” The man spluttered, punctuating each address with a respectful nod. As they turned to pick up their comrade they shielded him from view. They were about to pick him up when John spoke up.

“Wait.”

Both men froze instantly, like startled deer hearing a snapped twig. Their faces whirled around to face the officers again, both of them clearly trying to disguise their alarm and failing badly.

“Surely, if this man is injured, he should be taken to the medic’s station, should he not?” The men fumbled for words so John continued. “It’s not far, only a few hundred yards. If you need help lifting your friend then I would be more than willing to lend a hand.” He stepped forward as he said this, going to lift the cloak which was draped over the form on the floor.

“No!”

Everyone tensed and looked at the shorter man who had suddenly cried out.

“Is there something that you are, how you say, trying to keep under wraps, corporal?” Lafayette enquired, a hint of suspicion creeping into his voice which Alex thought was more than deserved.

“No. No, of course not sir, we just, ah, erm, don’t want to take anymore or your time. Especially not tonight on the dawn of, uh, the coming assault. Now we, uh, should really be off. He ain’t very heavy General, we can manage ‘im. If that’ll be all?”

The three officers glanced at each other, weighing up their options. All of them could clearly see the men were lying but there wasn’t much they could do without causing a stir. Whatever it was would almost definitely have passed by the morning anyway. No one stayed unconscious that long from simply drinking too much; even a punch would only knock someone out for a few hours, tops. No one noticed when the fallen figure groaned a little and stirred on the floor.

“I believe it is.” Alex said, looking back away from John and Laf. “Take care men, I expect to see you both looking sharp on parade in the morning and-“ He stopped as the injured man rolled over on the floor, and cut him off mid-sentence.

“Alex?” Came a small, muffled voice in a croaky southern accent.

Everyone’s eyes were down instantly, looking at the shrouded figure with a mixture of expressions. Lafayette looked confused, unsure whether he had heard right or not. The two soldiers wore identical expressions of dread and terror, all the colour drained from their faces. John looked ready to pounce on anyone who moved, and he probably was. Alex went through all of the aforementioned feelings at once, before settling on pure, unbridled rage.

The two men were the first to move, each trying to dart away between the mess of tents. John and Alex tore after them instantly. Between the guys ropes which made a maze of the floor and the lack of light neither man got very far before being tackled to the floor, even though they were far larger than their assailants. John -ever prepared- had rope on him, so he bound the wrists of his detainee before dragging him back to the support pole of a tent and looping the rope around it. He didn’t have to wait long before Alex joined him, also dragging a man behind him, although his was unconscious and had a suspiciously swollen eye. When John shot his friend a questioning look he just shrugged.

“Found this bloke passed out back there, looks like he’s had a bit of a rough night.” Alex parroted mirthlessly, his eyes filled with icy fire. In any other circumstance John would have laughed, but now he just nodded once and knelt down to tie the unconscious man to the pole next to his companion.

“I’ll stay with them,” John said, “We can have a nice little conversation.”

Again, Alex would have laughed in different circumstances, but this time just thanked his best friend and started to jog back to the supply barrels, back to Laf, and back to Thomas.

\---

As his friends gave chase, Lafayette had dropped down next to the man on the floor. He cautiously placed his hand where he thought the shoulder would be and felt the still covered man flinch. This better not be Thomas, he thought, if it was then the two lying bastards who did this wouldn’t just have the normal disciplinary process to answer to.

“A-Alex?” Definitely Thomas. No one else -apart from maybe John- would ask for Hamilton as soon as they came to.

“No, mon ami, it is only me I am afraid. Le petit lion will be back soon I am sure.” Laf paused for a moment, unsure of what to do. First things first, he needed to get Thomas untangled from the large cloak. “I am going to try to get you out of this cloak Thomas, but you must tell me if it hurts too much, yes?”

When Thomas had mumbled his assent, Laf started to gently tug, trying to find the edge of the thick material. Eventually he managed with Thomas only gasping once or twice, causing Laf’s heart to clench each time for his friend. It only took a few seconds after that to free Thomas and then it was Lafayette’s turn to gasp.

Thomas was curled in on himself, shaking slightly and fully tensed up. His knees were tucked up to his chest as if he were trying to make himself so small that he would disappear. He had both of his arms braced around his head in a boxer’s defensive stance, with his hands shielding his face. His knuckles scraped and bleeding from fighting back, but they weren’t bleeding nearly enough to account for all of the blood surrounding Thomas’ head like a ruddy halo. Laf felt himself pale at the sight, blinking away his sudden light-headedness. His faced was buried in the crook of his elbow and shrouded by his hair which was a mess of blood-matted curls.

Lafayette winced, taking it in and praying that it wasn’t as bad as it looked, fighting the urge to be sick as the metallic tang assaulted his senses.

“Oh mon ami, what happened, hmm?” He leaned forward to brush the hair away from Thomas’ face but caught himself just short, not wanting to startle his friend. “Thomas, is it alright if I touch you? I need to make sure you are not too badly hurt.” The concerned Frenchman sat back on his heels for a few moments until Thomas’ shaking died down slightly and he caught a weary, pained response.

“Sure.”

It was just one word but Laf felt his heart crumble at the obvious misery it held. Slowly, he placed his hand on Thomas’ shoulder, avoiding more injured areas. He felt a shudder beneath it as he slowly moved to Thomas’ hair, keeping contact so he didn’t startle him. After pausing momentarily and bracing himself for the worst Laf gently parted Thomas’ mess of curls and brushed them aside.

Frightened brown eyes met his own, reminding him starkly of an injured deer as they shone in the moonlight. One was nearly swollen shut, a deep purple bruise starting to form which Laf was sure hurt now but knew would hurt even more in the morning. There was a tiny cut on the opposite cheek, but it wasn’t nearly big enough to be the cause of the blood, he thought as he looked closer. Once again he found himself unsure of exactly what to do. He wasn’t a medic for good reason, even since childhood anything which bled more than a paper cut made his heart race and head spin, although he would rarely admit it to anyone. He wouldn’t know if what he was doing was helping his friend or harming him further.

John hadn’t been lying when he said the medics’ tents were only a couple of minutes away, even if Lafayette carried Thomas. But mon dieu, there was so much blood. Carefully controlling his breathing, he gingerly slid his hands through Thomas’ hair, until he reached a particularly sticky patch and he heard a sharp gasp and felt the injured man recoil away from his touch. Continuing even more carefully, he tried to gauge the size of the wound, not wanting to touch it but realising that the situation wouldn’t become apparent unless he did.

Just as he finished steeling his nerves, he heard someone – he presumed it was Alex - hurtle around the corner. Before the new comer could say anything, Laf pressed his fingers tenderly to the inflamed area where he presumed to cut would be.

He was sure Thomas’ scream could be heard from all over camp.

Doing his utmost to ignore it, Lafayette completed his assessment of the head wound quickly, not wanting to prolong how long his friend was in such pain for. Alex crashed down next to him as he withdrew his hands from Thomas’ tangles. His memories screamed at him not to look at his hands, already aware of how they would look, but morbid curiosity won anyway.

He glanced downwards, blinking away his blurred, misty eyes. His long, usually steady fingers quivered in front of him causing the viscous crimson liquid coating them to glimmer and shift as if it were full of life. Which it had been. When it was where it was meant to be. Inside someone, giving them life. Inside his friend. Oh god. Lafayette’s train of thought grew swiftly more hopeless, spiralling down into imagining the worst possible out comes as his heart pounded like a drum in his ears. What if Thomas lost his memories – he had heard head trauma could do that. What if he forgot his friends? What if he forgot how to walk? What if he forgot how to speak? What if the unspeakable happened and Thomas passed over to the other side?

He was sharply tugged from his internal rambling when Alex knocked him out of the way to scoop Thomas up bridal style. Catching on quickly he pushed himself to his feet, stumbling slightly as he followed; reluctant to let his injured friend out of his sight for long. He also knew better than to leave Alex alone with his thoughts, for someone so small he could hold a ridiculous amount anxiety.

\---

He rounded the corner to find Laf kneeling next to Thomas’ limp form - cradling his pale, blood-streaked face in his hands, eyes brimming with tears. Alex’s heart stopped. He prayed Thomas’ hadn’t.

His prayer was answered quickly, although he almost wished it hadn’t been, as Thomas let out a harrowing scream which chilled Alex through to the bone more than the cool night air ever could, before it subsided into whimpers. What on God’s earth had happened to make him let out a sound like that? He opened his mouth to give all hell to Lafayette, to curse him to hell and back for daring to make Thomas let out such a gut-wrenching noise, to tell him to never again lay so much as a finger on him, when he met the Frenchman’s gaze.

Acute worry mingled with terror in the depths of his terracotta eyes, which Alex was certain was reflected in his own violet ones. Adrenaline and urgency had pulled the weary lines around his mouth taut as his lips pressed into a determined line. But all of it was backlit with warmth and heartfelt concern so genuine that he snapped his mouth shut again, knowing that whatever had just happened, Laf had never meant to harm Thomas.

As he was drawn back to the issue at hand, Alex could feel his heart rate picking back up, pounding faster and faster, his breathing keeping pace with it. Desperately trying to avoid panicking, he forced himself to take deep breaths through his nose and instantly regretted it as he received a lungful of the metallic, sickly air. Slipping back into reality he leapt forward, landing on his knees next to Thomas, who flinched slightly at his sudden appearance. Next to him, Laf didn’t flinch – he didn’t even blink - too engrossed with staring at his hands as if he had been the one who caused the blood which was still wet on them.

Gingerly, he reached forward to cup the side of Thomas’ face, wiping away the trickle of blood which was making a beeline for his hair. He felt some of the tension drain out of the taller man as he blinked hazily, seeming not to notice the tears which fell from the corners of his eyes, racing to cut clean tracks across his temples. Awareness seemed to wash over him like a bucket of cold water, Thomas stiffened again and started mumbling frantically.

“Shhh, shhh, it’s alright love, your safe, I’m here now, shhh.” It didn’t take long for Alex to calm him down again, whispering meaningless nothings to him until he relaxed again, calming himself as much as the injured party. Pressing a gentle kiss to Thomas’ forehead he figured now was a good a time as he was going to get to move him. Laf was still staring at his own hands but Alex would worry about that later.

He was at an awkward angle to pick up Thomas, who was a good head taller than him, but he managed, keeping up his stream of reassurances throughout, not even pausing to apologise to Laf who had nearly toppled over as Alex had knocked into him. Shifting Thomas’ position in his arms drew out a few more whimpers, but he was already striding away towards the med tents, trying to look calm and collected even as he fell apart inside at the grimace which pinched the features of the man he was carrying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear readers, what to say to you? I am so so so sososo sorry that I didn't put this up when I said I would. I feel awful. I hope you guys can forgive a stressed student for her lack of schedule. See you soon (hopefully), stay safe you fabulous human being :D


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